


Someone else's baby

by amazingjemma



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: F/M, FItz crashes weddings, Hunter and Jemma are siblings, Secret Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-01
Updated: 2019-01-01
Packaged: 2019-10-02 01:25:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,482
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17255006
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/amazingjemma/pseuds/amazingjemma
Summary: What should you do when the love of your life suddenly gets married and you find out about it only on the wedding day? Why, crash the bloody wedding of course.





	Someone else's baby

**Author's Note:**

  * For [leopoldjamesfitz](https://archiveofourown.org/users/leopoldjamesfitz/gifts).



> kris......................... do u even know how much i love ur stubborn arse?  
> you've become such a dear friend to me I can't imagine my day without talking to you.  
> you've been so supportive, sometimes pushy (i know this is because you love me hehe), always here to listen to my bitching and complainings.  
> i'm beyond grateful for you, for the opportunity to get closer with you and eventually become not only my rp partner, but also a friend i can rely on.  
> i love you, bby.  
> here's to another year of our crazy ideas and midnight talks ♥
> 
> hope you like this one as well ♥  
> inspired by 'baby' by Clean Bandit feat. Marina and The Diamonds & Luis Fonsi  
> big thanks besidemethewholedamntime for beta! ♥

Fitz knows he’s violated at least seven driving rules but he doesn’t have time for figuring out how he’s going to cover all of his fines just now. This is not as important as the news his best friend shared just a few hours ago before Fitz’s heart broke into two halves. He’s had to stop himself from getting drunk and swimming in his sorrows, and instead take his car without even changing his clothes into something more formal. 

 

By the time he crosses the London Bridge, he’s already experienced anger, regret, sorrow and anxiety. The latter one has decided to stay with him though, another reminder of what he would say and do when he faces the reason for his emotional breakdown. He also feels guilty, and that’s probably one emotion he knows he deserves to feel. Fitz blames himself for a lot of things, really. He is not perfect, and he knows it. Only now Fitz realises his mistake and there were plenty of moments where he could have made her stay with him; the words he should have said but chickened out of doing so at the last second.

 

He parks his car not so far away from the place he shouldn’t be, his heart pounds in his chest when he hurries to his best friend waiting for him outside. Lance Hunter looks sharp and clean (so very not him) wearing a suit that somehow looks good on him. Fitz fights the urge to grab the cigarette from the back pocket of his own jeans but takes a few deep breaths instead. 

 

Hunter eyes him with a frown.

 

“Geez, mate, have you been drinking? Sorry, but you look like a tramp.”

 

“Wow thanks, nice to see you too.” Fitz scowls, but he’s grateful, anyway. If not for Hunter, he wouldn’t be here right now. “I would love to see how you look when your best mate tells someone you love is getting fucking married.”

 

Hunter raises his hands up in defeat, and something crosses his features. “Believe me, it surprised me when that douche bag showed up this morning and proposed. You know Jem and I’s parents. They’ve been obsessed with him since that camp trip.”

 

Fitz chuckles lowly and shakes his head. Oh, he remembers. That night has changed everything and he still couldn’t forget it. There was something about her – Jemma – that made Fitz change his habits and the way he looked at the world. She was the beam of light in his darkness that kept him alive even when they weren’t technically together.

 

In fact, they never were. 

 

Fitz hears a laugh in the distance and his heart does a flip. He’d be lucky if by the end of the day he didn’t end up in a hospital with a heart attack. 

 

Fitz clears his throat and looks up at Hunter. He knows whatever he says won’t change anything, but he still needs to know.

 

“Is she, um,” he feels a lump forming at his throat, unable to continue the sentence. He ignores it. “Did she say yes because she wanted to? Or because she had to?”

 

The look he gets in returns gives Fitz all the information he needs to know. He knows Jemma pretty well, and not only her body. In their short time together, he got close with her and has never regretted it. She was the one Fitz could rely on one, to share his fears and problems without being judged. And now, Fitz feels as though she’s fallen through the cracks in his hands and now he wouldn’t be able to change anything.

 

He thinks back to that long cold September where their story started.

 

_ Fitz grumbles as the cold wind bites at his cheeks. He is not a fan of cold weather, the trait he got from his mother. He’s surprised this September is colder than the previous one, but decides that the reason behind it is that he’s far away from the city and stuck with people he doesn’t know except his best friend Hunter who invited him for the camp trip. _

 

_ It feels like nostalgia with them in the middle of nowhere, the only sound the birds chirping and the river flowing. Fitz and his mother used to arrange such little camps when he was a child and this is yet another reminder he’s getting older, even though he feels as excited as he used to when he was a kid. _

 

_ He doesn’t really talk to anyone except Lance Hunter – they went to high school together but had to go their separate ways when Fitz went to the United States to continue his education. Coming back to London with a PhD definitely was something  Fitz was proud of. It felt good to reunite with his friends and his mum, and even better knowing he could do something that could improve his mother’s life.  _

 

_ Fitz volunteers to help with the twigs for the bonfire, feeling like a black sheep among all these people. He’s not really good with names, but he remembered that the tall blonde lady who barely leaves Hunter’s side is Bobbi Morse. She is Hunter’s on and off girlfriend and Fitz can’t say he’s surprised much when he hears them bickering and a few minutes later they’re back to their normal selves, looking at each other adoringly. It almost makes Fitz sick but only because a part of him, apparently, is jealous. _

 

_ His mother was the one who started the conversation of her son settling down. The idea itself was nice, but Fitz was too focused on his work rather than relationships; although the idea of someone greeting him every morning with a gorgeous smile was wonderful. Fitz wasn’t the perfect guy material – he was moody, forgetful; he had a couple of bad habits, too. The ones he tried to decrease but as soon as he was in a stressful situation, his hand darted to the pack of smokes and a lighter. _

 

_ The dusk is particularly beautiful tonight and Fitz almost forgets he has to bring the twigs and firewood he found. By the time he comes back, Hunter is all ready with a beer bottle and marshmallow packages in his hand. He notices Bobbi talking to the dark-haired girl who is much smaller than her; the girl Fitz has never seen before but shrugs, and helps Hunter with the bonfire arrangement. _

 

_ It is closer to one a.m. when Hunter retires to the cabin, winking at Bobbi and shuffling. Fitz chuckles at the scene and decides to go to another cabin tonight though he has doubts Hunter could do anything tonight after the amount of alcohol he has consumed. Fitz doesn’t blame him; they are on vacation, anyway. _

 

_ Fitz sighs and stacks the rest of twigs to the bonfire, watching the flames coming out the bottom and up in the air. He loves fire; but only because he once almost drowned and can’t stand water ever since. _

 

_ There are still other people cozying up, and some restless just like him, and Fitz eyes them, holding his breath when he notices the same unknown girl he saw earlier. She hugs her frame as if cold, a little smile on her lips as she listens to the frat-looking guy who seems to talk about his recent accomplishment. The girl’s honeyed eyes are focused on the bonfire though as if she is smiling out of respect rather than actually listening to him. Fitz wonders who she is and why he hasn’t seen her before when she opens her mouth to say something, but the guy (Fitz already hated him) stands up before she can even say a word. _

 

_ It slightly infuriates Fitz, and he watches the frat boy catcalling some other girl. He is rewarded with a middle finger which makes Fitz smirk. Serves him right. _

 

_ He returns his attention to the stranger shortly after, noticing as she shakes a bit, trying to warm up her palms by holding them close to the fire. It doesn’t take a  rocket scientist to realise that she was just about to ask that guy (whoever he was) for his jacket but was rudely interrupted and left alone in the middle of the forest with the people she doesn’t know. _

 

_ Fitz doesn’t really think it through when he carefully stands up and takes his jacket off, approaching the girl and tapping her shoulder. She shudders but looks up anyway, staring at him with her big doe eyes. _

 

_ “Here,” Fitz carefully puts his jacket around her shoulders, debating on whether he should just leave or talk to her. When she smiles, he doesn’t need to think twice. She is like a magnet and he joins her, unaware of what he should do or say. _

 

_ “Thank you…?” _

 

_ His brain stops functioning for a while when he turns his head to the girl’s side, watching in awe how the flames flicker in her hazel hues. She stares back at him, a question hidden in her features. _

 

_ “Ah, Fitz.” He finally finds words and cracks a smile, watching as she wraps herself in his jacket. God, she really is that cold, poor thing. He clears his throat whilst trying to find more twigs to add to the bonfire. “And what’s your name?” _

 

_ “Jemma,” the not so stranger anymore smiles and scoots closer to the fire. She purses her lips and Fitz tries his best not to look at them. They are literally the most beautiful lips he’s ever seen. “I thought Hunter told you?” _

 

_ “Told me what?” _

 

_ “That he has a sister.” _

 

_ Oh. Fitz glares toward the cabin where Hunter is probably drunk asleep and furrows his brows. His best friend has never really told him that he has any siblings. Perhaps one day he did, but they were both probably drunk and he can’t remember it. He huffs and smiles, albeit awkwardly, looking back at Jemma. God, she is so small and pure. He shakes his head though, trying to whisk away such thoughts.  _

 

_ “Well, now I know,” he replies quietly earning a beam from Jemma that almost takes his breath away. Almost. He stretches and stands up, trying to cover up a yawn. He really needs some sleep. “It’s been a pleasure to meet you, Jemma. Guess we’ll see each other tomorrow.” _

 

_ “See you soon, Fitz. Sleep well.” _

 

Fitz startles when he feels Hunter’s hand on his shoulder and blinks a few times, trying to recover from the memory of his and Jemma’s first encounter. It was truly a wonderful time, but little did Fitz know Jemma would become someone he could trust with his body and mind. There was an initial spark between them; the one others couldn’t see. It was their little secret.

 

And now he has to make a choice that could change his life.

 

He follows Hunter, trying to tame his hair and looks less bewildered. He is an uninvited guest, and no one likes uninvited guests. He’s still grateful though because Hunter knows how much Jemma means for him. Even if it was only for a little while, but they dated, a small affair that lasted seven days. Hunter was the one who caught them up making out and scolded them as if they were little kids. It was funny and silly, but Fitz knew he was just worried about his (not so) little sister. 

 

The first thought Fitz has when they entered the blindingly white hall is, _ it could have been me. _ He doesn’t really believe in love at first sight, but he thought that Jemma was comfortable around him. He gave her all the comfort and safety he could, some sort of confidence in the future for both of them. They agreed not to take it too far and too soon, but he couldn’t blame himself for falling for a girl who seemed to be the perfect match for him.

 

“Why are you doing this?” Fitz’s voice echoes around the halls and Hunter turns around, shrugging his shoulders.

 

“I want Jemma to be happy. And that is not happiness,” Hunter chuckled. “Marriage of convenience is old-fashioned but my parents are too stubborn to understand that. Selfish creatures, they are.”

 

Fitz hums quietly, thinking about what Jemma’s parents would say about him. They would probably throw him out like trash as soon as he crossed the threshold of their mansion. It’s pure luck that both Jemma and Hunter don’t resemble their parents; as soon as Hunter had found his voice, he had to deal with a lot of crap that his parents dealt him with. Jemma, unfortunately, had to stay with them, unable to run away or do anything that went against their plans.

 

And when it came to this sudden proposal and then marriage, he had some ideas on her parents’ intervention in Jemma’s life. They didn’t think about her, or their son; they were obsessed with their business and Jemma was the victim of all their schemes.

 

Fitz likes to think he was some kind of prince, saving her from the monsters. That’s almost romantic.

 

They stop in front of the crisp white door and Fitz suddenly feels bolder. Now is his chance to crash somebody’s wedding (it is on his to-do-in-life list but he didn’t even remember how he came up with this wish) and say the words he couldn’t say then. He was such a bloody coward, afraid of her rejection. 

 

Because they weren’t dating. But they were certainly in love.

 

Hunter pushes the door, and that attracts some people’s attention, throwing daggers at the intruders. Fitz ignores all of them, his eyes immediately falling on her. His breath hitches when their eyes meet, her features express pure shock. 

 

She was magnificent in a long white wedding dress, lace covering her back, and the chocolate waves that were her curls covering her shoulders as if it was a Shield. Perhaps, in some capacity, this is the truth. Her honey eyes Fitz particularly loves express something like sorrow and sadness and he wants to immediately embrace her, hide her from all the people who eye her like hawks. She doesn’t belong here; she deserves so much more than this.

 

She comes back to herself rather quickly and looks up at  the man in front of her, smiling, albeit awkwardly, before clearing her throat. Fitz doesn’t  hear what she says, but he can read her lips easily. Something shifts in his chest at her words and he watches as she hurries down the altar, walking past him, her perfume surrounding Fitz like the siren’s song.

 

A wave of whispers overtake the crowded room and Fitz notices Jemma’s parents in the front row looking around as if trying to find something – or rather someone – who dared to suspend the wedding ceremony. Fitz smirks, glowing over their defeat. They might have arranged the whole ordeal, but they can’t stop Jemma from having her own choice.

 

_ Fitz quickly learns that he and Jemma have a lot in common. She has a beautiful smile and laughs at his jokes – even though they are not particularly funny. They share the same obsession with science, but Jemma’s parents made her forget about her dream of becoming a scientist and have already decided that she’ll become a journalist. She tells him she loves her parents – but they are manipulative and Jemma can’t say no to them. She tried once, and that didn’t end well. _

 

_ He thinks back to his own father, who is probably the worst human being Fitz has ever known. The memory of him leaving is blurred now, just a dull pain in his chest that Fitz tries to ignore at his worst times. Alistair Fitz was manipulative and abusive, and the boy Fitz was back then was more than happy to see his father slamming the door, finally feeling free from his tyranny. He and his mum didn’t need him, anyway. _

 

_ Fitz learns that Jemma’s parents control every aspect of her life, and this camping trip is just her escape from the hell she lives in. She’s slightly jealous of Hunter, who was brave enough to stand against their mother and father, but she also mentions that Hunter helps her whenever he can. The guy she was hanging out a few nights ago near the bonfire the “potential groom”, as her parents called him. Jemma admits she doesn’t understand what he is talking about most of the time and Fitz allows her to vent because apparently, Jemma has a lot to say but she’ll never be brave enough to say it to her parents’ faces. _

 

_ They volunteer to collect the twigs; a most serene and pleasant task for both of them. Time doesn’t exist in the woods, and the path leads them to the beach. It’s empty and clean, even though it’s cold during this time of the year. Fitz suggests staying here for a while, to watch the waves and rest after hours of walking. _

 

_ “I’ve never seen this place before,” Jemma sits in the sand next to Fitz and he is immediately surrounded by her smell. It’s ridiculous, but he can’t stop staring at her, a small smile on the corners of her lips. “Hunter and I used to go here to enjoy the silence.” _

 

_ “So your parents have no idea where you are now?” Fitz looks back to the waves, thinking of his mother who stays in Scotland. He makes a mental note to visit her in October.  _

 

_ “They know we went to the camp trip, but I think Hunter gave them wrong coordinates,” Jemma laughs quietly and Fitz grins. This sounds like Hunter. “He’s always been a little too overprotective.” _

 

_ “That’s nice to have a sibling though,” Fitz muses and catches Jemma’s glance. She notices her scooting closer and his breath hitches when she lays her head upon her shoulder. _

 

_ The gesture is so unfamiliar that Fitz tenses but relaxes a few moments later. He turns his head slowly, not wanting to scare her away, and the corner of his lips turn up into a small smile. She looks peaceful, her warm hazel eyes mirror the waves and Fitz tries to not forget how to breathe. At her next words, his heart does a flip. _

 

_ “I feel safe with you, Fitz.” Her voice is just above a whisper, and when she looks up from her place on his shoulder, her eyes dart to his lips. _

 

_ He wants to ask for her permission, because he thinks it would be rude to kiss her right now, but before he says anything, their lips are pressed together and the softness of her lips makes Fitz moan. She smells of marshmallow and campfire – the combination almost intoxicating, and before Fitz can do it himself, Jemma deepens the kiss, her fingers caressing the stubble on his cheek.  _

 

_ Fitz thinks he can die here and now because he is kissing the most wonderful woman he has ever seen, and he wasn’t the one who initiated the kiss. It’s like he has found someone who could stay with him for a long time, to end his loneliness, and the idea itself warms his heart. Fitz feels Jemma smile into the kiss and he allows his hands tangle in her hair, pushing her softly on the sand and earning a laugh from her. _

 

_ He knows her parents wouldn’t probably approve of him. He knows that there is a chance of her getting married soon. He knows that what they are doing is not right, but he shuts his brain down, and instead enjoys the moment.  _

 

_ In the midst of their make-out session, they are interrupted by a cough somewhere behind them, and Jemma gasps, pushing Fitz away and wraps her cardigan around her body. Fitz tries to control his breathing and fix his hair, avoiding the stare dagger of the intruder. _

 

_ “I don’t even know what was going on here.” Hunter’s voice shatters the silence between them. Jemma opens her mouth to say something, but he raises his hand. “I’m not here to lecture you, but I hope you know what you are doing.” _

 

_ Fitz then looks up, feeling oddly ashamed of the scene his best friend just walked in to. He really didn’t intend on kissing his friend’s sister – it just, somehow, had happened. As if it were inevitable.  _

 

_ “Fitz, you are my best mate but if you hurt my sister’s feelings.” Fitz raises his eyebrows and smirks in Hunter’s direction. Hunter just shrugs, but despite his stern voice, Fitz sees a ghost of a smirk on his face. “Well, you know how it goes.” _

 

_ Hunter gives the both of them a glare before disappearing into the woods and even grabs the twigs Jemma and Fitz found. _

 

_ “So...” Jemma moves closer to Fitz and he takes her hand, swinging it slightly. He can hear the laugh in her voice and he can’t help but smile himself. “Where were we?” _

 

Fitz paces in front of the door Jemma was hiding behind, his mind a mess just like him. Hunter volunteered to talk to the bride, something parents should do, but Fitz quickly remembers that her parents are not here for the show. They don’t want to deal with their “ungrateful” daughter who’s destroying her own life by stalling.

 

Now is the only chance for Fitz to talk to Jemma, and maybe reason with her because he knows that she is doing this not for herself. She told him her story: how she always sacrificed her wishes and opportunities to please her parents, how she was trying to go against them and was scolded like a little girl who stole a piece of cake before dinner. Fitz couldn’t imagine how she managed to survive all of this and he was truly happy to know she felt safer with him.

 

Fitz knows he can give Jemma more than her family. He was wonder-struck by her intelligence and everything that goes with it; how her eyes shine brighter when he compliments her or how her hand fits in his as if they were made for each other. It proves every little theory Fitz had and, while he tried to deny it, he finally came to the conclusion he loves Jemma Anne Simmons, and he is ready to do anything for her.

 

Hunter emerges from the room ten minutes later, pats Fitz on the shoulder and disappears downstairs, beaming. Fitz doesn’t know what’s got him smiling like that and, with a heavy heart, he braces himself and walks in, feeling his breath is being taken away when their eyes meet.

 

“Hi, Fitz.” Her voice is shaky, and she fiddles with her hands. His heart aches at the sight of her misery. This is not right. 

 

“I’m sorry I crashed your wedding,” Fitz has the audacity to joke, and Jemma laughs quietly, shrugging her shoulders. He takes a few steps forward. She doesn’t move away. “But I thought, you know, maybe we could…”

 

“No, we couldn’t,” she interrupts him before he says anything else but Fitz can hear some sort of doubt in Jemma’s words. As if she’s considering it. “It’s too late, Fitz and we can’t fix anything.”

 

“We can try,” he replies immediately and Jemma furrows her brow. He feels stupid because he had a chance to say all of this earlier; when they were laying on a beach and later in his cabin, studying each other’s bodies and memorising every little detail. Fitz chuckles lowly and throws his hands up in the air.

 

“I am an idiot, Jemma, I know I am.” He presses his lips into a thin line and meets her curious gaze. “I know you’re doing this for your parents, for their business or whatever crap they were telling you. But do you really want this? Do you want the future they made up for you without even asking questions? You deserve so much more than that, Jem and… you  _ are _ more than just a friend to me.”

 

Jemma smiles but lowers her head, staring at the carpet. Fitz closes the distance and takes her hands in his, pressing a kiss to her knuckles. He’s missed her.

 

“You are a smart, intelligent, wonderful, beautiful woman who deserves to make her own choice without being afraid of being judged. You deserve a man who loves and respects you, and who stands by you and accepts your choices. A man who helps you grow. You deserve a fantastic career with millions of prospects and I believe, Jemma, you can do it. But for the first time in your life, please, listen to your heart and make the decision  _ you _ think is best.”

 

It feels like this is their last chance of being together, something that both of them are scared of, but whatever choice Jemma makes, he decides that he’ll accept it; he will let her be in control because this is what she truly deserves. And no matter what, he will be by her side. 

 

Fitz holds his breath when Jemma looks up, her honeyed hues are full of tears but there is a small smile on her lips and she squeezes his hand. She laughs suddenly and Fitz is startled but she just shakes her head.

 

“Where were you this whole time?” She asks, but Fitz is not sure how to answer this. It turns out he doesn’t really need to. Jemma places his hands on her waist while her palms cup his face, pulling him closer for a kiss. She beams when she pulls away. “I don’t want this to end for you and I. And I don’t want to be someone else’s baby. Not when there is  _ you _ . I love you, Fitz.  _ So _ much.”

 

Fitz feels his heart skip a beat before embracing Jemma and burying his nose in the crook of her neck while she places kisses wherever she can rich. There is no time for hugs, Fitz thinks, and he grabs Jemma’s hand, pushing her away. They try not to get caught and they are surprisingly successful; by the time they approach his car, Jemma throws away the flower bracelet and her veil, leaving the past behind.

 

In his car, she changes into the t-shirt and trousers Fitz always keeps there, collecting her curls in a tight ponytail. Fitz can’t stop looking at her, the visible changes warm his heart and soul. She looks different now: slightly wild ( _ just like him _ ) but still magnificent, and he kisses her soundly on the lips, the laughter between them.

 

“So, where to now, miss? The choice is yours.” He asks her when they pull away, lungs screaming for some air. He gently caresses her cheekbone, and she leans into his palm, almost purring.

 

“Hmm, I was thinking Scotland, maybe?” Jemma raises her eyebrows and grins.

 

Fitz doesn’t need to be told twice. He would follow her anywhere as long as they’re together.

  
  



End file.
